


shizuka - silence of doves

by Anonymous



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Deities, F/F, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Slow Burn, destiny trio actually talk for once, ignores the kh3 secret ending real hard, that's no moon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22462663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Gifted with the provision of light, in exchange for relinquishing all darkness, a boy is placed back among the living. A black kid goat totters forward on growing limbs, and the shepherd clad in silver turns his back.
Relationships: Background Terra/Aqua - Relationship, Kairi & Riku & Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Kairi/Riku (Kingdom Hearts), Kairi/Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Kairi/Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Sora & Xehanort (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas & Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 37
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Awakening & Abstruse

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This was a plot bunny that refused to leave me alone, and now here we are again. Oh boy.

_Darkness._

_Never ending darkness._

_You miss the Light, don’t you?_

_Little one...here. You may have our Light._

It is a void, all around him. This is unlike the darkness of sleep, this is a force far greater than that, one which takes and does not give back. 

He can’t open his eyes. It is too much to ask...not when the veracity of existence keeps slipping through his fingers. Something still stubbornly hums within, an insatiable itch, a spark which resists drowning.

_...Power of waking? This is not that. This is a force far greater._

_Hmm...we hope it will not be too much for your human body to bear...that would be a pity, to waste a Light so bright by giving it too much at once._

There is no breath. There is no air. This is something far removed from that pitiable state of being. 

_What do we suppose we do?_

Suspended...in a light so bright it is removed from existence. Locked away, the better kept secret. Voices...great and beautiful.

_We will make him so strong he cannot break. He will be a proof of existence, a precious gift._

The light fills him, mending together an empty body and a silenced soul. The heart still shines, but suddenly it’s radiance begins to grow, something so removed from humanity it begins to be truly questionable in it’s grandeur.

_Breath, little one. You will be silent no longer._

Sora inhales with a gasp.

Light peels away into brilliant color, everything too bright and far too much all at once. Beneath his bare feet there are panels of stained glass, cool to the touch and refracting the glow with an unbearable intensity. It hurts to look at, even as with the first glance he can recognise the familiar shapes and colors that make up an image of a younger him.

There is no sound, except the harsh breathing as his chest raggedly grasps for air on pure impulse. It is just him, in the empty glowing white, lying gently on the glass.

And with a small noise, he sits up. 

“Hello…?”

_You live._

The sudden voice comes from nowhere, and it is melodious, even as it is terribly loud.

“Huh?!” Wildly, Sora looks left to right. “Where are you?” You would think the boy would be more used to this by now.

_We are...here, of course._

“What…?” Sora’s head tilts to the side in confusion, making his baby face even more apparent. “Then...where is here?”

The voice, or perhaps voices, as it is somewhat difficult to tell whether it is one melodic voice or a chorus of angelic tones mingled together, is silent for a moment. When it speaks again, it’s tone is quiet. 

_You do not know? We would’ve thought you could tell instantly._

This does not help resolve the confusion. 

“I guess not...heh.” Pulling his legs to him to sit crisscross applesauce, the boy looks up into the glowing white emptiness. “Why? Have I been here before?”

_...you ask a lot of questions, little one._

Sora breaks into a huff of laughter, seemingly unintimidated by the unknown. “Is that...a compliment?”

The grand and beautiful voice does not deign to respond in words, but suddenly, Sora finds himself lifted into the air, buoyed up by the pure light around him. Something swells, something in the surrounding presence itself, something unknowable, and unattainable. 

_You are far from home, little one. Would you like to return there?_

Heart climbing into his throat, Sora gazes hopefully up at the empty brightness around him. “Do you know a way?! I know I can’t get back without my powers...but that’s gone now.” He looks down at his own hands, visibly dejected.

_There is a way._

He looks up again, expression firm. “What do I have to do?”

_So quick to respond!_

_...you must give up all your darkness. You can be sent back to where you came...but not as you are. There is a price for everything, after all._

“My darkness?” Sora’s lips purse in thought, pondering visibly. “But...doesn’t everyone have at least a little darkness?”

_Every human is made of a congealed mix of darkness and Light._

“Then...would I…” The boy’s brows pinch together disconcertedly. “Would I not be human anymore? Without any darkness...”

_You would be far better._

Sora crosses his arms with a little ‘hmph’, and the end result is the opposite of intimidating. “I don’t know about that. All I’ve ever been is human...what else could I possibly be?”

There is a soft nudge to his side amidst the light, perhaps a teasing poke. 

_It is your decision. You can remain human and stay here...or you can give up a small piece of you and return to those you love. Is it such a hard decision?_

Indecision flickers visibly in his face. “I…”

_All it will cost is your darkness, done away with in an instant. And instead...you will be filled with a great and beautiful Light._

The boy shakes his head, with visible fear. “Please don’t do anything to my heart! I...I don’t want to lose the person that I am. Even if I do carry darkness around...that sadness and pain makes the rest of me stronger! I wouldn’t be who I am without it!!”

_Who said anything about your heart? It is you yourself who will be forever free of the sin of darkness. Nothing more than that, and certainly nothing less._

Gnawing on his lower lip, this seems to assuage the child slightly. “You’re...sure that I would still be me?”

_Of course. Any ‘you’ is still you, is it not?_

This seems to settle him. “Then, what do I do? To get all the darkness...out of me?”

_It will be replaced with Light. However, there is one thing that will be asked of you._

The child snorts. “Oh, so there’s a catch now?” His hands settle on his hips, and he stares up at the blank expanse of light, unafraid.

_No catch. Simply...an exchange. I can fill your heart with Light and remove all the shadows that would consume you otherwise. But, as is the nature of these things, when you return to the place you came from, you must tell no one of how you returned there._

“Tell no one of how I got back...huh? Why’s that?”

The light grows in intensity, forcing Sora to squint against the sheer brightness of it.

_The exchange will remain sacrosanct, between you and this Light. If you were to speak of it in a realm other than this one, the Light would begin to fade, and you would be left worse off than you are now, simply fading where you stood, never able to return._

The boy gulps visibly. “That’s a little…and besides.” His chin juts out indignantly. “That sounds like a pretty big deal! So why are you choosing someone like me?”

_...someone like you?_

He nods, jaw clenching slightly. “I’m just...I’m just Sora. I’m not a real hero, or anyone important, especially not on my own.” The Hero of Light’s posture slumps, expression turning to a quiet frown as he seems to reexamine his position.

_How very interesting. And yet our offer remains. This has nothing to do with your accomplishments, however many there might be. This is about who you are, and the strength of the will that keeps you from completely fading away, even now._

_Even, here in this place._

The boy’s head tilts to the side. “You’re offering me a second chance...just because I want one really badly?” The frown turns into a slight grimace. “Is that even fair?”

_Fair has never stopped you before, not when it came to rewinding an entire universe._

Gulping visibly, he droops. “But that...that wasn’t for me or anything. If it was just me, I wouldn’t have messed with time…” He seems to be expecting a reprimand, like a guilty child bowed before a parent.

_You will not be able to change that past again, not in this state. The only question that remains is if you will choose to return._

“I…”

_Will you, or won’t you? The choice is yours, little one. To linger here, on the very edge of existence until you fade into nothingness...or return to the home and cherished ones you left behind._

Sora’s fists clench until his knuckles are white, and silence reigns for a long moment as he clearly hesitates. 

“...I’ll do it.”

The voice seems unbearably pleased. 

_You are wise, little one. The temerity and frail nature of your former self will be stripped away...and in return you will be granted immeasurable power._

Doubt curls in every bit of the small boy’s posture. “W-what? You didn’t say anything about…power?”

_Your faculties will be...altered by this gift. It is simply a blessing, and one you should not abstain from using. All will be made clearer in time._

“But I didn’t-!!”

_It begins._

Suddenly, the light builds into a glare the likes of which it is impossible to see through, and Sora’s eyes slam shut on primal instinct. The pressure around him shifts, gentling from a quiet hold to a certain numbness...and what should be the blackness behind his eyelids is superimposed with statickey white.

There should be a long fall, in this place, in this state...but instead, he hangs in the balance. Lifted up, under an influence much greater than his own.

And the light shifts. Red flashes, and fades away in an instant to be replaced with the same blinding white. Ephemeral transformation...and then the act is complete.

_Where do you want to go?_

This is less like a voice, and more like one of his own thoughts, magnified to an unbearable degree of intensity.

_I want….I want to see Riku._

_Then so be it._

Power thrums through the space with a violent and cheerful pulse. Something new has awoken, or something old has simply let go. The pale white veil unfolds...and then entangles once more.

_Light...dark...cold...warmth._

_...wet?_

Sunlight trickles through the surface of the water above him, and Sora squints disbelievingly upwards. It wasn’t dark before, in fact it was too bright to do anything but wish for the darkness, but now the darkness of the deep water surrounds him on all sides as if it had never left.

Bubbles dance upwards as his throat spasms, but the expected rush of water filling his airways does not come. He startles at this, glancing around in surprise. Donald’s magic shouldn’t be able to help him anymore, so then how…?

...he should just be thankful he hasn’t drowned like this. With that in mind, he pushes against the water, kicking upwards with strength he didn’t know he had.

The sky, when his head finally breaks the surface of the water with a cold rush, is warm and loving like an embrace tinted with pale amber and rose. The wind whistles by, carrying on it the chill of late Autumn.

Paddling furiously out of the water, Sora’s hands meet stone and he pulls himself over the edge with a small cry of relief, landing limply on his back.

A...lake? A pond, more like, but deep enough to seem much larger than it was now to look at it. From where he’s laying on the grass, under the clear skies, it seems like a giant mirror spreading out to his right, reflecting tree branches and faintly defined clouds back upwards with a hint of blue.

Loosely rolling his head to the left, too spent and surprised to try to sit up yet, Sora makes eye contact with a bush. White flowers are blooming on it, scattered in dew and the fresh blush of a new bloom. 

A white dove is settled on the bush as well, peering down at where Sora lays prone with it’s beady eyes. “...? Are you a fish?”

_A talking bird..._

Trying to remember his manners, Sora sits up with a jolt. “Umm...I don’t think so?” A surreptitious glance downwards confirms that no, his legs haven’t been replaced with the blue fins from Atlantica.

The dove tilts its head, well, it’s whole body really, to the side inquisitively. “Then why did you come from the water?”

_So this is a talking animal world...well, I hope they think I’m just a weird looking cat or something, since I don’t know Donald’s magic._

He smiles back, hoping the expression won’t startle the bird. “I’m not exactly sure myself. I was...somewhere else…” Memories of the strange promise come flooding back, and hurriedly, he diverts his thoughts. “And then I was in the water, coming back here.”

“Very strange indeed.” The bird chirrups, and ruffles its feathers. “Excellent time of year for it though, what with all the setting up for the Big Nap soon.”

_The big...nap?_

_…_

_...Oh!! Hibernation, of course!_

“Yeah.” The sun is setting, rousing Sora’s attention from the dialogue with the bird. “I need...I need to find my friends soon.” Carefully, almost hesitant to try to carry his own weight, he stands...slowly but surely. 

“An understandable course of action, to be sure.” The dove chirrups once more, fluttering up in a short burst to perch on Sora’s shoulder. “Will I see you around, Mr. Not-Fish?”

He laughs easily, careful not to disturb the much smaller being. “My name is Sora! And sure!” Glancing around again, it is difficult to hide his slight befuddlement. “But I’ll need to figure out where exactly here is first…”

He’s stood on a grassy lawn, not neatly trimmed at all, but somewhat unkempt, but clearly flourishing well under the sun. The trees are still green, towering above him with a slight yellow tinge to their leaves, seemingly signaling a change in seasons. To the right, the hill he’s stood on promptly drops away into a little valley, rising again higher and higher, leading towards a mountain range which glows a blurry golden in the distance.

It looks...oddly familiar, in a way he’s not quite sure how to describe. The air glows with a sense of nostalgia, a nonsensical homecoming.

The dove is, understandably, oblivious to the pervasive deja vu that fills his senses. “Then I wish you the best! May the winds guide you with peace.” And with a ruffle of feathers and what must be an avian approximation of a bow, the bird takes off into the air, careening upwards and gleaming like a pearl in the light of the setting sun.

Following the trajectory of the dove with his eyes, it leads Sora’s gaze upwards, to where a white building is placed like a gem among the green and gold setting. It arches into gold and grey spires that shine silver in the sunlight, held together by chains that link to the rock formations beside it. It glistens like a sunspot where it’s perched in the sky above him, and looks to be a good ten minute walk up and around the winding mountain path. 

The sight of the manor house in the Land of Departure beckons warmly. 

A smile breaks over his face before he can do otherwise, and with a loud _whoop,_ Sora throws his fists into the air. 

“I’m home!!”

It’s but the work of a moment to test out his balance, running eagerly forward on slightly shaking legs. The wind moves past his face in a blur, brushing his hair backwards and coasting over his skin in a chilly embrace. The feel of the old stone path beneath his foot falls is congratulatory, blood pumping through his veins in celebration.

He’s home, and he’s _alive._

The path begins to incline upwards, and his pace flags a bit in response, as more and more it becomes clear his body is shuddering from some mixture of disuse and giddyness...or perhaps something else entirely. Sora takes a minute to pull in a ragged gasp, slowed to an exuberant trot as the winding road curls around the rock.

_I hope someone’s here...it would be a shame if everyone were off world! Ven, and Aqua and Terra probably came back home to live here after everything was over...or at least I’d assume so._

_How long has it been anyway?_

The thought brings him to a full halt, eyes on the grass growing up to consume the stones of the paving.

_Fading away...in the bright sunset, Kairi’s hand tightly curled around his as though if she squeezed hard enough nothing would be able to pull him away. Mortality, unfurling itself as the instruments of fate blurred him from the picture entirely._

How long ago was that? That they’d alighted on the edges of the island, some distance away from where the others had gathered. He’d wanted to dash down, to say one last round of goodbyes and hugs before it was all over. 

But there was no time.

_I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Riku._

If anyone were there with him right then, they’d have born witness to Sora’s face seemingly morph into impassivity, a vacant and empty expression that betrayed nothing and conveyed even less. 

The wind whistles through the mountains.

_All the more reason to hurry and find him now then. To say an un-goodbye._

With that thought in mind, Sora’s feet start working again, one in front of the other continuing up the slope of the mountain path. The sun is setting in the distance, an eerie parallel to the last thing he remembers before everything…

Before everything went white.

The path takes yet another curving turn, reaching up to crest at the summit. The sky is mostly cloudless, revealing the amber color of it as Sora finally reaches the top of the climb. He grinds to a halt, stopping to catch his breath after the long walk.

The manor house, in all it’s white marble and golden glory, towers above him welcomingly, gazing down with the fondness of a family friend who you didn’t know very well yet. There were no lights in the windows, but then again, from what Sora knew of it it seemed to be the kind of house where the inside and outside had achieved a comfortable disparity with each other.

There is a figure, silhouetted against the house in the fading golden light. They’re facing away from Sora, gazing up at the building with a quietude in their posture.

The honey colored light glances off of silver hair, and it’s not difficult to recognise the stature of someone you’ve known since you could speak, even if you’ve both grown so much in what feels like a relatively short span of time.

Riku’s hands hang at his sides, but it seems almost as though he’s praying, reverence exuding from the way he holds himself before the golden and ivory front steps.

Sora takes an unconscious step forward at the sight of him. 

_He’s here. I’m home. He’s-_

He’s flying forward with all the force of a darting bird, feet effortlessly sailing across the pavement as though he weren’t short of breath not moments ago. There is no distance he can’t cross, no feat he cannot achieve, no expanse that would not be worth traversing.

_Riku._

“Riku!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did I use an adjective as a noun for this chapter title? yes, it felt like something nomura would do.


	2. The Trouble With Accidental Necromancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visitation. Confrontation. Resuscitation?

“Riku!!”

It is with a great gust of wind that Riku turns at the sound of the call, and by the grace of the grand mathematics that tie together the universe, their eyes meet.

_Recognition._

It takes two moments for Riku to react. The first for him to stare, slack jawed and eyes a wide and disbelieving aquamarine. The second for him to turn, boots colliding with the pavement in a mad sprint.

In the third moment, Sora is buoyed up in strong and familiar arms, and his face buried into the center of Riku’s chest. Those arms are tight around him but even so, he doesn’t feel a want of breath. It all becomes lost together in the blurry haze of the moment, and Sora hears himself giggling hysterically.

“I’m back,” he manages through the slightly crazed laughter. “I’ve come home.”

Riku’s face is buried in the top of his head, and raised slightly off the ground as he is, Sora’s feet come to settle on the top of Riku’s boots. The wind moves gently round them, a pseudo-lullaby written with motion. 

_“You’re back.”_ It’s with a whisper that Riku finally speaks, quiet enough that Sora might not have heard it if he hadn’t been so close.

“Yeah.” It seems only fitting to whisper back, now that the quiet of the moment has coalesced into a shell around them, a reunion’s glasslike microcosm. “Did you miss me?” It’s impossible to stop himself from smiling, even where Riku can’t see him.

Riku says nothing in response, but his arms loosen around Sora’s shoulders. Gently, he pulls away, and Sora finds himself set ever so delicately back down onto the pavement.

“Is it…” His friend’s eyes trace over his face, and the scrutiny feels odd in a way that Sora can’t think how to describe. “Is it really...you, Sora?” Riku’s hands are left still resting on his shoulders, a gentle weight that exudes human warmth.

“Yup!” He beams, and it might be his imagination, but Riku’s eyes seem to widen. “I’m just as me as I ever was.” That statement rings a little hollow for yet another reason he can’t identify, so he graces it with an awkward laugh and hopes Riku doesn’t notice his fingers fidgeting.

If he does, the older boy gives no indication of it. Instead, he relaxes into a soft smile, one that doesn’t come out very often, and that Sora has already taken the liberty of naming it ‘Super Nice _Special_ Riku Smile #3’. It’s one of the newer ones, one that had really only started appearing after the year they’d been apart.

Or...at least, that was when he’d started noticing it.

The smile reaches Riku’s eyes, but the tension that seems to be ever present in his posture these days does not fade. He’s still wearing the magicked blue and black garments from Yen Sid...so hopefully it hasn’t been that long...right?

Suddenly, the weight of his friend’s hands on his shoulders feels much heavier than it did in the moment before.

Riku exhales, and there’s genuine relief in the sound. “How did you even...well, I guess it’s you, Sora.” His smile creases into a short huff of laughter, and Sora makes sure to soak up the sound like a sponge. “You always manage.”

“Yeah.” There’s a sudden lump resting like a stone in the back of his throat, and Sora takes step forward and presses himself back into the warm circle of Riku’s arms, letting his arms wind around his friend’s waist. “Always!” The second word is muffled since he’s speaking directly into the lapels of Riku’s jacket, but it’s loud enough that Riku must have been able to understand.

Those arms circle around him again, gentler this time, and a hand ruffles his hair affectionately. “How did you get back? And...where did you go in the first place? It was…” Here Riku swallows, and the sound is loud even against the whistle of the wind. “It was quite a shock, to see you disappear like that.”

“I’m sorry.” The words are out before he can think. “I’m really sorry.” He must stiffen in Riku’s hold, because Riku leans away from him in order to look down at his face. Achingly, he’s ever so gentle about it, as if Sora will shatter into nothing if he doesn’t handle him delicately enough. “I...I didn’t want it to go that way either.” 

“I didn’t think you did.” Seemingly understanding, if not completely satisfied by whatever he finds in Sora’s expression, Riku drops his hold, stepping away. “Honestly, I’m just glad you’re back.”

There is no reticence in his friend’s face or his voice, and for a moment, the stalwart greys and blues that have always made up Riku are framed perfectly by the gold of the sunset. Sora can only stare back wordlessly. This is real. This is a dream. This is…

This is absolutely _crushing_ him with guilt.

“Sora…?”

It’s only after the first two sniffles that Sora becomes aware of the wetness now dampening his face. There’s a sob bubbling up in the back of his throat, and with a sinking sensation, the awareness of how pathetic he must look begins to overwhelm all other thoughts. “...mmf.” He ducks his head to hide his face, scrubbing at his eyes with his fingertips in vain.

“It’s…” Riku’s voice sounds suddenly restrained to his ears, at worst disappointed. “It’s alright to cry, Sora.”

It is both a learned and a natural trait, the shining silver steel that allows him to lift his head and smile brightly around the pressure of rocks in his throat. “I’m not crying!” Tear tracks must still be glistening evidence on his face, but he’s stymied the rush of tears itself. “My eyes are just watering!”

There is a furrow between Riku’s eyebrows, a little wrinkle that mars the rest of his pale face. “Sora…” He steps forward, and before Sora can overthink it any further, he finds himself swept up in another bear hug.

“Come on,” Riku whispers into the top of his head. “Let’s go inside.”

It is indeed getting darker out, the peachy reds of the sky now having faded into a bright violet which melts into dusky blue. The wind whistles around them where they stand on the mountain top, carrying with it a chill that had not been present under the light of the sun.

Sora nods, against Riku’s chest, and everything feels a little bit more manageable beginning with the warmth of where Riku’s collarbone rests against his forehead.

Keeping an arm around his shoulders, Riku turns and begins to steer him up the steps and into the golden and ivory manor. “How are you feeling? Hungry? Tired?” 

A bird warbles from behind them, a plaintive and melancholic sound that echoes into the twilight.

Unbidden, a small laugh rises up in the back of his throat, and Sora gently elbows him in the ribs. “What are you, my mom? I feel fine!” 

Well, as fine as making confusing dealings with invisible beings of pure light and suddenly finding yourself at the bottom of a lake could reasonably leave you feeling.

...heh, but that’s just life, right?

As they reach the top of the steps, Riku uses his free hand to shove gently at the door that rises up above them. “If you say so. Where even…” He pauses, as if to consider his next words carefully. “What happened to you, on the tree?”

_He mustn’t know._

A promise he can under no circumstances break. A promise, that governs his very existence. A bond that if broken, will be his undoing. 

Sora swallows. “I’m...not really sure.”

He’s never truly been able to lie to Riku before. In fact, if past experience is any indicator, he’s not very good at lying in general. It is a raw and visceral feeling of guilt that wells up in his throat, a pungent mass that tastes vaguely like bile and sours his countenance until the presence of a falsehood is easily visible. 

Riku tilts his head to the side. “Well...what did you see? Before you came back here.” The door swings open with a dull creak under his hand, and he guides the two of them into the entrance hall. The walls, which Sora remembers as gleaming a vibrant gold, are a muted grey in the lack of daylight coming through the high windows.

Adrenaline slowly turns the warmness from before into a coldness like ice. 

“It was...warm.” That much is true. “I could see the sunlight coming through the water. I swam upwards...and then I was here.”

It rings true, in that it really was what he saw before coming...here. Hopefully, Riku won’t get any more specific in this line of questioning…hopefully.

Before Riku can ask anymore questions that have answers he can’t give, Sora hurriedly babbles on. “Also...Riku, how long has it been? Since...since I...”

Riku doesn’t force him to finish the sentence. “Two weeks.” There’s a certain calm to his voice, something that must be aided by the steady weight of his arm still draped around Sora’s shoulders.

He goes for a deep inhale, and it results in an embarrassingly loud sniffle. “That’s better than I had hoped for.”

Sparing him a glance, Riku’s eyes are fond, and carrying a strong note of relief. “You’re back now, and that’s all that matters.” He’s been guiding them ever forward, down the hall and up the stairs to the side, further up into the grand entry hall above. “We should let everyone else know you’re back, as soon as possible.” 

Framed in the ghostly light of twilight as they are, Riku’s features appear as if carved from marble, a statue portrayed with quiet thankfulness in mind. It’s still a little odd to see him with shorter hair, cut to chin-length for the first time in years.

Sora catches himself staring after a long moment of comfortable silence. “...yeah.” He curls closer to Riku, as they round the top of the stairs and alight into the main hall. 

It is...cool silvery relief, that’s flooding through his veins. Here, safe in the arms of a sanctuary. It’s difficult, not to let the tears return with a vengeance. Overwhelmed, relieved, the raw satiation of a gaping wound, the glorious returning of a multitude of connections to the void they had once illuminated.

_Later. When I’m alone. I can’t cry here._

_The twilight here is so calm and quiet that it feels...almost comforting. It’s not like the beach in the Realm of Darkness at all, even if everything is dark and grey._

There is a figure, up at the end of the hall near the dais where the Master’s seats regally sit. They are coated in shadows, a collection of blackened silhouettes against the pale light filtering through the colored stained glass above. Sora squints, but their features do not become clear. 

Riku pulls them both forward, hailing the figure ahead of them. “Hey!”

The silhouette shifts, turning towards them, and Sora stares up at where Terra’s surprised face becomes illuminated in the moonlight.

“Riku?” Terra steps towards them, seemingly in disbelief. “Sora...?” His voice rises in pitch at his amazement, footsteps ringing out in a firm cadence as he hurries towards them.

When Sora glances up at him, Riku’s expression has bloomed into another smile, a familiar one that radiates satisfaction, but gentled compared to his memory of it. “He’s back.”

The next while is punctuated by being handed round like a particularly coveted gift. Aqua’s arms, which feel strong enough to snap him in half, are still soft and oddly familiar. Terra’s big bear hug is as gentle as possible, and he ruffles Sora’s hair very lightly, in a gesture that echoes in the same odd familiarity. Ventus throws his arms around Sora’s waist and refuses to be dislodged, clinging to him like a warm and exuberant backpack. Riku’s laughter rings out unfettered, a sound that is truly carefree for the first time in a while. Even Chirithy is there, to leap into Sora’s chest with outstretched plushy arms.

He can’t get the smile off his face, as it feels like a physical incapability to unmeld himself from the tangible celebration in the air. The light of the five around him glimmers in such a way it seems amazing that the others aren’t blinded by it. It glitters like the burn of the sun, even as he finds he’s not really looking at it with his eyes, but some other sense, reaching out blindly only to shudder at the intensity.

Ventus’s light, pressed up so comfortably against him, back to chest, as close as they can be in this physical state, is airy and pure. Untainted by any shadow, it practically exudes Ven’s gentle and mischievous nature. Unconsciously, Sora finds himself pressing backwards against it, and, most likely misinterpreting the gesture, Ven’s arms tighten around him.

_Familiarity. This light used to reside in him, after all, even if it was sound asleep._

Chirithy’s light is...odd. It feels familiar, but in an entirely different sense. Something old, something new, something that reminds him distinctly of that pale blue world of sea and sky. A deep connection to Ven sings a refrain, but in a language he cannot parse. Perhaps it’s not a song with words at all.

_I wonder what’s in the pouch tied around their neck._

Aqua’s light is a little different, offset by grim shadows that pale in comparison on an initial glance, but on further inspection offer up deep grey depths of their own. Her radiance glows steel, ice blue as opposed to Ven’s sunny gold. It is not unlike a structure made of ice and glass, seemingly delicate but offering no visible crack or chip.

_Is this...the inner strength it takes to be a keyblade master?? No wonder I didn’t pass._

As if by some twist of ironic design, standing so close to her only illuminates in contrast how gentle and gauzy Terra’s light is. It’s much fainter, not glowing with the silver rigidity of Aqua’s light, or even the simple radiance of Ven’s. But it is an amorphous and amber thing, something that carries a hidden intensity even in it’s seemingly unimposing state. That is a light that can move mountains, given the right shadows to stand against.

_Terra’s darkness isn’t like Riku’s. It’s sort of the same...but really not at all._

As for Riku’s light...now that Sora’s paying attention, it gleams like the moon. Offset by gentle shadows and yet still crowned in silvery radiance, it glows with youth and strength and the protective fire of a warrior.

He knows it like the back of his hand already, even if it’s his first time seeing it like this. It’s a light that has grown and matured, evolved through each phase of the lunar cycle like a phoenix with a chip on it’s shoulder. And yet, beneath everything else, no matter in what shape or form, it’s still the same Riku underneath it all. 

Voices ring out around him with jubilation, but Sora barely hears them, content to simply surf on the sensation of the warmth glowing around him and the mingling of happy voices and laughter. The night has fallen properly by now, but with a sweep of Aqua’s arm and a whispered _Fira,_ the sconces lining the walls light up with a cozy amber glow.

Aqua and Terra combine their culinary prowess to make a dinner for five, (Chirithy doesn’t eat their kind of food), and Sora finds himself seated on a bench in the kitchen, pressed snugly between Riku and Ven, with Chirithy on his lap. Terra chops vegetables while Aqua calls out directions for him, as well as gentle reprimands to be more careful with his fingers. Whatever she’s stirring on the stove smells warm and meaty, and it’s with a start that Sora realises that he’s been having hunger pangs for so long that he’s forgotten to pay attention to them.

Riku had said it was two weeks since he disappeared...so where was his body during that time? Did it even exist at all? He’s practically ravenous, but it’s been awhile since he’s sat down at a table to eat properly. The last month has been a lesson in eating on the road, a mixture of hastily prepared French cuisine and the occasional bar of ice cream. Even a well timed potion is capable of satiating hunger, when you’re in a pinch.

He’d always felt slightly better about the whole situation, whenever he’d had a bar of the pale blue ice cream in hand. Perhaps it was Roxas and Xion, resonating from deep within in response to the taste that was so sacred to them.

_...Roxas and Xion!!_

That’s right! He has so many hellos to say, so many goodbyes that never quite happened and now will never have to. That’s not even to mention saying thank you to Naminé, and the host of other people he should probably talk to at some point.

Riku nudges him gently in the side, and with a start, Sora realizes he’s been staring into space for the past little while. “You okay?”

His friend’s voice is just above the whisper, even as the merriment in the kitchen around them continues. Sora bites his lip, and nods. “I was just...thinking about how glad I am to be back.” Aqua is setting down plates all around the table as Terra doles out cutlery. Ven’s still chattering excitedly to his right, as Chirithy makes noises of agreement.

Riku smiles, and it’s one of the ones that reaches his eyes. “We’ll have an even bigger party to celebrate you being back. Everyone will be there, everyone you could want.”

The feeling of tears begging to fall wells up again, and Sora ducks his head and attempts to blink them away. “...I’d like that.”

_It’s warm, sitting between them. I really am so happy I could cry._

Dinner is composed of a thick meaty stew, swimming with vegetables and spices, and complemented by thick and crusty slices of bread. It’s hot, and just the right amount of spicy, and tastes like nothing he’s ever eaten before. There is a juice to accompany it, something that Aqua says is elderberry, and it tastes like the rush of happiness you find in the solitude of a brisk summer’s morning.

The meal is certainly hearty, and after eating so much of it that it feels as though he can barely think straight, it’s difficult not to fall asleep then and there in the golden warmth of the kitchen. He keeps awake with a few discreet pinches to his forearm, as the soft and familiar voices from all around keep lulling him into complacency. 

If Xehanort really is gone this time, then this next vacation is not only well earned but something he feels in dire need of. Thoughts of what might come after, of what might begin anew once this phase of his journey has ended.

They wash the dishes as a combined team effort, and even though this kitchen was not built with five eager dishwashers in mind, Sora finds that the occasional bumping of elbows, and one very unfortunate occurrence when the spike on the side of Aqua’s shoes jabs him in the shin, are not enough to ruin the experience.

It must be past midnight, but at this point, everyone is too happy and full to care. Tiredness sets in easily, and after Ven yawns for the third time in a minute, Terra begins guiding everyone down the main hall, which opens into another hall lined with the rooms of the residents, as well as some sparsely furnished guest rooms. Aqua bundles Riku into one of them, and Terra tucks him into another, and Sora finds that his eyelids, which have been drooping lower every second, are too heavy to even register much of that interaction. All that makes sense is that there is a soft surface beneath him, and that gentle hands have draped a silky soft blanket on top of him.

Darkness does not ensue. Instead, what follows would perhaps be called a dream, in the most abstract sense of the term.

* * *

Glimmering icicles made of diamonds and pearls stitched together swing loosely in the wind. They hang from spidery tree branches, with a bark that shines pale white, and stands completely barren of leaves. 

Sora squints, as the light reflecting off the trees and their jewelry makes it a bit hard to see. Is this...a garden?

He steps forward, cautiously. There is no sound, and the wind that rustles through the strings of jewels and the tree branches is completely silent. It whistles past his skin with an icy touch, stirring up goosebumps in its wake.

Beyond the treeline and the hanging ornaments, the garden opens up to meet a pool of water. The surface glows a perfect reflective silvery, untouched by any ripples or shadow.

The shine draws him closer, reaching out the surface of the water before he knows what he’s doing. It gleams like a well polished pearl, practically _begging_ for his fingers to brush against the surface.

“Don’t.”

Sora jerks his head up at the sudden voice, and locks eyes with a stranger, sitting exactly across the pool from him.

The stranger smiles evenly back at him, meeting Sora’s wide eyes with a regal calm. “Don’t disturb the water.”

Heart in his throat, Sora finds himself nodding, unable to look away from the mysterious figure. They appear to be a young person of barely more than twenty, but even that seems to be a guess, looking at the ageless beauty in their eyes. They are seated at the base of one of the white trees, clad entirely in silver and white silks that spread out into an ornate robe. Diamonds crown their brow, woven into their long honey colored hair like droplets of sacred rain. Their face gleams with a fairness that humans do not have, a radiance and purity to their skin that cries out to be unnatural.

Seated curled around them, like a scarf of lethal and majestic properties, is a snow white leopard. Where their markings would normally stand a stark black against otherwise grey fur, instead the spots gleam with the same pearly radiance that exudes off of their human counterpart, pale white marks even paler than the rest of it’s silver fur.

“Do not be afraid.” The stranger’s voice is light and sonorous, and they don’t seem to mind Sora staring at them so blankly. “You will not be threatened here.” Blue eyes twinkle at him merrily.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat, Sora tries not to look as alarmed as he feels. “Um. Where exactly...is here?”

The stranger’s head tilts to the side, and their wide blue gaze, fixed solely on Sora, does not grow any less intimidating. “You don’t recognise it?”

He bobs his head back and forth, trying not to fidget. “No…?”

“Very well.” It is not melancholy that rests in the stranger’s eyes as they regard him, but Sora can’t figure out what else to call it. “I suppose you are not ready yet.”

“What do you-”

“You’ll understand when it happens to you, _Sora.”_

* * *

With the breath caught halfway in his throat, Sora jerks awake.

Blindly, he sits up in the dark, struggling to regain awareness. The room is pitch black, and the creaks of this house are unfamiliar to him.

Someone was evidently kind enough to pull off his shoes and jacket before they left him to rest, as neither seems to be currently on him. He twists out from under the covers, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the bed as he catches his breath.

_A dream. Was it...about Xehanort again? No, I remember all of those. It was...someone else. Someone I knew, but couldn’t recognise._

There’s a restless murmur beneath his skin, something that whispers of impatience and a nameless frustration. It compels him to rise to his feet, feeling out his steps carefully in the dark.

_I’m back. It’s fine. Everyone is safe now, and we’ll be together. Master Xehanort’s gone for good now._

The face of a young man a few years older than himself swirls around his mind, smirking down on him with the air of someone confident that they could never lose. His gold eyes glitter with something foreign, with whatever something it was that ultimately drove Xehanort to such extreme ends.

_He wasn’t bound by space and time. He was capable of doing such horrible things...in so many ways. He was able to escape death over and over again._

_I barely did it this time._

_Can death...really hold a man like that?_

His bare feet collide with his shoes in the darkness of the room, and leaning down, he pulls them on slowly. His fingers seem all but nerveless, an assuredness that fills his body but neglects his mind.

_If he...if what I did back then wasn’t enough_ …

His jacket is neatly folded nearby, and thoughtlessly he pulls it on. The idea of checking what time it is on the device from the king’s engineers couldn’t be farther from his mind.

_I need to end this for certain. I need to know I can make sure that he won’t ever be able to do something like this again._

The door handle creaks very lightly as he gently tugs it open. The hallway is dim, and most likely the sun won’t rise for another few hours.

_If he can move forward in time, there’s no reason why his younger self wouldn’t be able to return to this time and stop me from winning. I...._

_I need to end it for good before he does._

Stepping out into the hallway, Sora holds his breath as he inches through the process of putting one foot down in front of the other. His shoes squeak lightly on the shiny floors, and he doesn’t dare to chance an exhale. 

_No one can know. I’ll finish it, and no one will be the wiser. Power...the new awareness that’s been flooding through me ever since I woke up again…_

_I’ll do something. Anything. That’s what my heart is saying._

Light echoes out from each room he passes, not dispelling the gloom, but resonating with him on a layer of sight that does not belong to his eyes. Aqua’s steel blue radiates from one room, Ventus’s golden cheer from the next. The shine is muted, as the hearts from which the light exudes are deep in sleep.

Riku...Terra...Chirithy’s soft glow is safely curled up next to Ven’s. That’s everyone all accounted for.

Sora stands, heart thudding in his chest, before the closed door to another empty guest room. A severe pounding in his throat, his hand meets the door handle, and the way creaks open.

The room is empty, the window closed tightly shut. He can’t quite see in the gloom, but some superior sixth sense keeps him from bumping into anything, as though he’s already perfectly familiar with the layout of whatever room this is.

The Kingdom Key flashes into his hand with a blaze of light. It’s weight is solid, and familiar in a quantifiable sense. Everything else seems to make sense when he looks down at it, as though he is the most himself when the key is settled comfortably in his hand.

There is a sudden weight in his left pocket, something that wasn’t there in the moment before, but has achieved reality in the moment between silence and his heart crying out for the key it carries within.

_Huh?_

Blinking in confusion, Sora shoves his hand in the pocket, and his fingers curl around something hard and smooth. Lifting it out cautiously, he takes in the sight of a softly glowing ornament, a little white bauble on a silver chain, with a pearl set into the center of it, a pale white metal which curves outwards into two dainty bird’s wings.

[Information: Keychain Obtained - Cherub’s Inequity]

[A keychain formed of the softest light and the innocence of children. Allows the bearer to call out to the bonds between souls, bringing together those that have been separated.]

Limbs moving almost without his command, Sora reaches down, and unclips the silver charm that normally dangles from the head of his key. The new keychain clips on easily, and in a flash of light, where once the simple silver and gold were, a keyblade which gleams ivory and pearl appears, intricate curls and carvings giving off a soft radiance.

_This. This contains a power that can help achieve the desired end._

Sora lifts the keyblade up to his face, unable to take his eyes off of it. Everything settles into place further the longer he looks at it, the pearly gleam distilling an ache he didn’t even know he was carrying.

_The light I carry within has been renewed, strengthened. Even if Donald and Goofy aren’t here with me this time, I feel plenty strong enough to face him alone._

“You.” His voice echoes out slightly louder than he expected it would, bouncing around the empty room. “The guy who thought he could rip apart people and their lives like it was nothing.”

A strength begins to flow, underneath the words and filling up his chest with a new and inescapable kind of pressure. “You’re never going to be able to do those kinds of things again, ripping apart time and space to get what you want like you’re some sort of _god.”_

The fabric is rustled. A tear begins, at the innermost seam.

“Because,” The light gently rippling around Cherub’s Inequity has blossomed into a frenzy, leading down to the tip of the keyblade and sending out haphazard rays of a power that seems almost too much to handle for even this specific keyblade. “You can’t meddle with the future from a past that you’re no longer in.”

As if by the stroke of a razor sharp blade, a vertical string of light opens up before him, billows of radiance drifting out and shaking the empty guest room slightly. The seam has ripped, cut open by the will of a force much stronger than it.

Sora stares up at the glowing line with a rage of such an intensity that he’s never felt before, and raises his keyblade to point at the little pillar of light. “Xehanort!!” 

The tear pulses, and shifts, the single ray morphing into something fuller, something much less unreal. It grows veins, spreading away from the main stem, curling inwards and outwards 

Speaking through gritted teeth without even realising it, Sora narrows his eyes. “You belong here now. Right where I can keep my eye on you!”

The light congeals, the tear disassembling, mending itself back together on it’s own. It finishes in a humanoid form, two arms, two legs, a head, sinking softly to the ground as color begins to flush and fill in the human shape.

“And you’re never-” Sora finds he has to pause to take a deep gulp of air, so incensed has the pounding in his chest become. “-going back to where you can meddle with people’s lives ever again.”

The interference is complete. The body sinks to his knees before him, head bowed and posture loose like a doll. 

Sora huffs an exhale, mind a rushing river of thoughts that have no particular meaning. 

The body shifts, fingers curling and flexing, and head raising up, like a puppet whose strings have been lifted. 

_I did it. I did something. He’s here. He’s really here. I can end things for good now. He can’t mess up any of our lives anymore if he doesn’t exist._

A boy sits before him, a few years older than Sora, clad in a black coat and a sheet of white hair that curls around his shoulders. He seems, understandably, disoriented, gazing up at the boy before him as though he was half asleep, lost and looking for directions. 

The confused grey eyes that stare up at Sora spell out an unwavering fate. “Who...are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter in particular, I find it amusing how unreliable of a narrator Sora is lol. His logic is so flawed in places...he has one braincell, and it's trying so hard.


	3. The Enemy Who Is Not Yet My Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regret lingers like old smoke. Amidst the dusk, a fire begins to burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised that the endgame pairing and certain tags on this fic have been updated since the time of the last chapter.

There is complete and utter silence.

There is also a lump slowly building in the back of Sora’s throat, as the boy knelt before him stares up at him in visible and mounting confusion. 

It’s undoubtedly Xehanort, down to the hair and the face shape, and the specific way his brows furrow. The only light source emanates from his still glowing keyblade, but even that is enough to illuminate the simple facts.

But this is not a Xehanort that he’s ever met. This one seems slightly younger than the youngest he’s seen, and though he objectively knows that Xehanort  _ must _ have been his age at one point or another, it’s another thing entirely to see the flesh and blood proof of it.

The boy sits back onto his heel and raises a silver brow, attempting to look disaffected. “You’re not very talkative, are you.” His grey eyes are sharp and keen, but they don’t quite possess the ruthlessness that he remembers. It’s hard to forget the feeling of when the old master looked at him, like he was able to look through the fibers of his soul, and was unimpressed by what he saw.

_ Grey...eyes…. _

Sora swallows hard, and tastes bile in the back of his throat. 

He has to be sure. This is the only way.

“You,” and the voice that comes out is a lot less menacing than he intended, and frankly more apologetic. With hands that will hopefully stop trembling if he pretends they aren’t in the first place, Sora raises his keyblade, and squares his shoulders. “You’re Xehanort.”

Is the tremor running through him the echo of his own words in the room, a creak from the hall outside, or simply his own imagination?

The boy regards him dubiously, which seems to be a fair response all things considered. “How do you know my name?” His hands are still splayed on the floor, and he seems at least able to keep a straight face with a keyblade leveled at his forehead.

_ I need...I need to destroy him. But… _

Sora attempts his most fearsome glare. “You’ve got-”

The door creaks open, pale light from the hallway spilling into the darkened room. The young Xehanort flinches away, hiding his eyes in the sudden glow, but Sora finds he barely has to blink at the abrupt intrusion upon his retinas.

Riku stands framed in the doorway, gaze utterly disbelieving. Time hangs still, for but a single moment.

When he speaks, his voice is somewhat shaken, infused with confusion, and fear.

“Sora…?”

_ That voice...I’d do anything to never ever hear that tone of voice from him ever again. _

“It’s not-” All suitable words are gone, and he stands, opening and closing his mouth at Riku like a hapless fish. “Everything’s...fine…”

Xehanort, who Sora had been hoping would at least have the grace to keep his mouth shut, starts to rise to his feet. “What’s going on here?” His voice is firm, unlike Sora’s wavering pitch. It seems leadership fits easily on this young man, his chin held high and unwavering.

Riku looks between Sora and the young Xehanort like he’s not convinced he’s awake right now. “Sora, did you...who is this?”

Before Sora can even begin to think of how to properly explain  _ anything _ that’s going on right now, Xehanort opens his mouth, seemingly eager to voice his displeasure with the situation. Again, not an unwarranted reaction, all things considered.

But that...that simply won’t do. Riku can’t possibly know the truth of this, because if he does, one question will lead to another, which will very quickly end up at questions Sora physically cannot answer. He has to find a way out-

“My name is-”

_ “Don’t.” _

The single word rebounds through Sora’s body like an electric shock, something that courses through his veins and makes a home in an empty space in his chest. The pressure between his ribs feels uncomfortably full, like he’s brimming with a magic he’s never felt before.

Xehanort’s mouth clicks shut like a trap, his eyes wide and...afraid?

_ You will not tell Riku the circumstances of your arrival. You cannot. You won’t tell anyone else either. You can’t. You should barely even remember them. _

The thoughts are a panicked mess, running round and round in circles. But something pulses beneath them, something which turns every word, every fragment of desire into something heavy with intent.

_ It is so. _

The moment hangs in stillness, grey eyes boring into blue. He did something. He definitely did something. And Xehanort knows what it is...or at least is feeling the effects of it.

Riku’s expression has turned from aghast to worried to grim in the matter of a few moments.  _ “Sora. _ What’s going on.”

With a slight hitch in his breath, Sora rips his gaze away from the grey-eyed boy, and stares at Riku helplessly. “I just…”

_ Deep breath. _

“I was woken up, when I heard something in the other room. It sounded odd, so I came to check...and I found him lying here.” With a stuttering jerk of his hand, Sora gestures to the youth. 

It’s false, no matter which way you spin those words. All he can do is hope and pray Riku will buy it...for now.

One moment ticks by. Another.

Riku’s brows furrow and he steps forward, taking a defensive stance beside Sora. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” His gaze is hard on the other boy, something like steel which does not know how to flinch.

Hook, line, and sinker. Sora tastes bile in the back of his throat.

Lies taste like volcanic ash, something putrid and vile, and yet they go down so smoothly. Smoothly...if it weren’t for his heart threatening to pound it’s way out of his chest.

The boy’s chin is lowered, in a play at deference. “My name is Xehanort. Where...am I?” The room is still dark for the most part, and it seems likely he truly has no idea where he is.

Riku’s jaw clenches tightly, and Sora quakes under the all-consuming urge to turn and dash out the door and as far away as he can. 

_ What have I...what did I do? _

The look in Riku’s eyes is sharp like a flint. “Sora, you go get Master Aqua. I’ll stay here.”

He does not remember much of the time between heedlessly fleeing the room and knocking a jittering pattern on what he really hopes is Master Aqua’s room and not Terra or Ven’s. Sora’s thoughts spin, a wild and feckless pattern that suffers no coherence. 

The next thing that registers is the steward’s hand on his shoulder, gently shaking. Nerves fried beyond hope of retelling the situation just properly, he just points helplessly down the hall and to the spare room with the door left cracked open. 

Aqua needs no more guidance than that, the sound of her footsteps ringing out before him. For a moment, he is left in the wake of a war hero, but the thought passes like all the others, lost in a terrifying stream of consciousness.

When next he faces the teenaged Xehanort, both Riku and Aqua are standing in front of him like a protective barrier, keyblades drawn and postures tense. The young man is standing still, hands where they can see them, and seemingly acutely aware of the situation he has found himself within.

Sora can barely bear to look at him. The things he could find in that horribly familiar face both enrage and terrify him, the chance of accusation, dismissal, confusion...fear?

Even Xehanort was human in the end. Twisted beyond recognition and a threat that had to be neutered, but human nonetheless. 

_ Who...what was he like? When he was my age? _

Although the answer to that question is conveniently directly in front of him, Sora keeps his eyes on the back of Riku’s shoulder, the situation a haze in his periphery. It’s tempting just to check out, to allow the words being said and the conflict around him to flow around him like water, and simply be lost helpless in the tide. 

...but there’s been enough of other people cleaning up his mistakes. 

Sora grits his teeth and forcibly tunes back into the conversation, or rather, monologue of condemnation if the tone of Master Aqua’s voice is anything to go by. 

“-answer for that. Now.” Aqua’s chin lowers, and the flash in her gaze carries with it a vengeance like sleet. “I will ask one more time. How are you here?”

Xehanort looks at her like he’s genuinely struggling to keep up with the level of idiocy around him. “I told you already. I don’t know.”

“What is my name?” It’s clear Aqua’s patience is running thin by now, as if it wasn’t to begin with, and Sora belatedly realizes he must have missed the first half of what seems to have been a very touch and go kind of conversation. 

“As I said before.” Xehanort seems equally at the end of his tether. “I don’t  _ know.” _

“Liar!” Rainfell is now a scant few inches from the boy’s breast, and Aqua’s stance falls into something ready to strike. “What poor child have you commandeered for your schemes this time?” Her voice is a hiss, face creased in anger.

Xehanort grits his teeth back up at her, not unlike a displeased cat. “I don’t know who you think I am, but you’ve got the wrong person.”

It doesn’t sway Aqua one bit. “Your lies are useless. You  _ will _ tell me what your plans are, and you  _ will _ do it now.”

Sora glances to Riku, whose eyes are flashing between the other two with mounting anxiety. His hand is curled tightly around Braveheart’s hilt, not yet in an active stance but ever at the ready to step in. 

Staring at Riku’s white knuckles, Sora tries to breathe more evenly, heart hammering in his chest. 

Something has to happen. Someone needs to fix this.

Xehanort has just opened his mouth to offer up whatever scathing reply he’s been driven to, Aqua’s eyes already hardening in response before he’s even said anything, and-

“It’s me.”

The silence in the room is deafening. Three pairs of eyes stare at him blankly, Riku in stunned confusion, Aqua at a complete loss, and Xehanort in quiet appraisal. 

“I m-mean…” He stutters, but forges ahead regardless. “I mean I figured it out. How he could've got here.”

“What is it then, Sora?” Riku is the next to break the silence, tone slightly guarded. “What happened?”

It’s the first thing he thinks of, not even stopping to consider if it sounds believable or not. “Old Master Xehanort messed around with time enough that he could’ve planned this to happen in advance...without his younger self knowing.” Hoping against hope that his hands aren’t visibly shaking anymore, Sora raises a hand to point at the young man. “He was probably one of his backup plans.”

Aqua’s brows have knit themselves into a knot at the center of her face. “That would assume that this is Xehanort himself, and not someone who looks similar and became infected by the old master’s heart.” 

Said Xehanort is looking more and more confused the longer this conversation goes on, but it would appear he has the implicit understanding that he’s at risk of bodily harm if he opens his mouth at the moment. 

Sora gulps, and nods. “But...can’t we find a way to figure out? If this isn’t the real Xehanort and only a...double, then he should have two hearts inside him. The original, and a piece of Xehanort’s.”

Riku speaks up, giving a short nod. “Sora’s right. We need to take him to someone who can ascertain that.”

Understandably, conflict flickers through Master Aqua’s eyes. A moment passes, as she visibly wars with herself. It’s clear she’d rather incapacitate the youth, and that his continued stare at her is doing nothing to help the state of her nervous system.

In a flash of light and movement, Rainfell connects with the back of Xehanort’s head, and he falls forward like a log, only saved from gracelessly face planting on the floor by Riku diving to catch him. Aqua huffs, and dispels her keyblade, roughly brushing her hair out of her eyes.

“We’ll take him to Master Yen Sid. We depart in thirty minutes.” With that ultimatum, she stalks out the door without a word more.

Riku’s eyes are shadowed, but he spares a small and undeniably tense smile for Sora, even as he carts the body out the door and after the other master. Silence is left in his wake.

And then Sora is alone. The weight of the universe shudders through him.   


* * *

The Gummi Ship ride is more than a little awkward. Riku got the privilege of piloting, and so was safely away from the passenger compartment and the forefront of the issue.

Xehanort is still unconscious, safely strapped into a seat with his wrists and ankles bound together. Aqua sits across from him, looking for all the world like a guard dog at the end of her tether. Terra is seated next to her, a calming hand resting gently on her knee.

It leaves Sora to sit on the bench next to Xehanort’s nerveless body, desperately trying to sit as far away from him as possible. A misery pervades his veins, the taste of lies clogging up at the back of his throat and making his eyes water. 

What’s...going to happen?

Ventus had stayed back in the Land of Departure, surprisingly mature about the entire situation. He’d volunteered for it, seemingly aware at a glance that with Aqua in such a state of tension, Terra was the better one to mediate if necessary. Chirithy agrees, their nubby arms gesturing in agitation.

The lingering sensation from...whatever it was that’d he’d done that Xehanort had felt, has now sunk to the pit of his stomach and stayed there in a ball of leaden weight. Sora keeps his head ducked low, unable to meet Terra or Master Aqua’s for fear of what the two more experienced keyblade wielders may find if they look too closely.

Very little conversation ensues, beyond Terra occasionally murmuring a few things into Aqua’s ear and Aqua muttering back tersely. The sound of the young Xehanort’s breathing is loud next to his ear. Sora can only squeeze his eyes shut tight and pray for Riku to drive just a little faster. 

Miraculously, as if by some divine providence, once he’s formed the wish into words, it’s as if the journey takes no time at all. Next thing he knows, the ship has alighted on the grassy sward that sits just outside Yen Sid’s tower, and Riku has crawled down from the cockpit with the expression of a man climbing down into the lion’s den.

The old wizard awaits. Sora swallows nervously.

When they ultimately enter the old master’s office, Yen Sid’s gaze flies to the young Xehanort immediately. The boy is carried in Terra’s arms, still as dead to the world as when Aqua had initially deprived him of consciousness. 

“When Master Aqua had said ‘incident’,” the sorcerer's tone is gravelly, and somewhat more stern than usual. “I must confess this was not what I had surmised.”

Aqua gives a short bow to her senior, and gestures to the body in Terra’s hold. “He appeared in one of our spare rooms, without any warning. Sora was the first to discover him.”

Yen Sid’s unrelenting gaze slides to Sora, and never has he wished more for the floorboards in the Mysterious Tower to swallow him whole. “Is this so, Sora?”

He nods, on pure instinct, shoulders squared by the same compulsion. “Y-yes.”

The wizard strokes his beard, glinting eyes drifting back towards the prone youth. “If it is as you say then it indeed would appear we have a great trouble on our hands. If you would, Terra.”

With some obvious reticence, Terra props the youth up into a chair that had waddled up for this reason, stepping back and to the side. Yen Sid’s gnarled hand lifts, and with an imperceptible motion of his fingers, a spell is cast.

Pale eyelashes fluttering, Xehanort begins to rouse. He shifts unconsciously in his seat, against where his wrists are still tied firmly together.

The roaring that has been in the back of Sora’s ears suddenly reaches a crescendo, a glowing chasm of guilt and panic that has not had any time to scab over. It’s as the questioning begins that all fades to grey static in his periphery, and spoken words join the mindless river of his consciousness.

It’s all just too much.

Needless to say, the particulars of the interrogation and ensuing debate are lost on Sora. Voices mix together in gentle cacophony, thankfully without seeming to need his input.

At some point Riku picks up on his current state, and it’s with a few simple motions that another chair is summoned, and Riku gently prods him into a sitting position. From there, he instinctively curls up behind the protection of his legs, letting his bangs fall into his eyes and the world get incrementally more difficult to see. 

The others speak of chaos, of a man who planned with the foresight of one who had spoken to the god of time and stolen their notebook. Of a youth who had left a lonely clump of islands in search of something greater, of an old and learned master who had hidden terrible ambitions behind a scholarly mien and calculating gaze. 

Sora does not watch the face of the youth, as all of this is discussed before him. He does not watch Master Aqua’s face grow more and more pinched with anger as the conversation continues, or the slight paleness that overcomes Terra. Riku’s calm tone can be heard throughout, even if it’s hard to imagine the Riku of one year ago ever being a mediator.

Anomaly. Universe. Kingdom Hearts. Fate, and the relativity of events. 

“...it would appear we have reached an impasse.”

Sora jerks awake, the finality of the tone breaking through the grey of sleep and alerting him to the fact that he had at some point dropped into a light slumber. The others are now seated in chairs of their own, but Riku is still an arm length away from him, chair positioned slightly in front so as to shield him from the circle.

“I still think we should take him.” It’s Riku’s voice who speaks next, and the tone of the words makes Sora force himself fully back into wakefulness.

Yen Sid sighs, with the expression of one who has done a lot of sighing in the past while. “I will not deny there are great risks with the idea Master Riku speaks of.” There is a sudden lump in the back of Sora’s throat, to hear such a phrase uttered with such banality. “But we have yet to arrive at a more feasible solution.”

Blinking away the fog of sleep from his eyelids, Sora’s eyes zero in on the fact that a barrier spell has been cast around the captive in question, and from the looks of it, one that impedes sound. 

Master Aqua’s mouth is pressed into a firm line, but she says nothing, as if she has already argued long and hard. Terra hardly seems to be paying attention to the conversation at all, eyes tracing the way Aqua’s knuckles must be pure white beneath her gloves. 

Yen Sid sighs yet again, but this time it seems final. “Then I suppose it is decided.”

With a small shriek of chair legs against the floor, Master Aqua whirls out of the room, with a face like molten death and steel. Terra hurries after her, taking a moment to bow apologetically to the sorcerer. 

Sora shifts in his seat, the air of the room pressing heavily against him. There is something still thrumming against the inside of his skin, but it has quieted somewhat, perhaps lulled into complacency by sleep. 

Before he can worry about what to say, Riku turns in his chair, peering over his shoulder at him with a tiny smile. 

“Sleep well?” His voice is tired, but his expression still looks soft around the edges. 

“...mm.” It still feels like too much, all at once, to return to the world of the waking, but all the same, Sora unconsciously leans towards the familiar voice. “What...happened?”

Riku smiles wider, but there’s something lingering beneath. “You slept through all the important parts.” He rises from the chair, taking the two steps to face Sora.

“We’re taking Xehanort back to the islands with us.”

  
  



	4. The Birds Are Leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night falls, and even if dawn does come, who knows what it will bring with it.

There is silence in the cockpit of the Gummiship.

The only sound is the quiet noise of Sora’s fingertips drumming lightly along the armrest of one of the passenger seats. Riku is once again piloting, his eyes on the empty expanse of space that currently stretches before them.

Their…’guest’ is currently down in the passenger compartment, safely in the embrace of yet another sleep spell and under Master Aqua’s restless eyes. The proximity is still making Sora’s skin crawl.

He had seemed more miffed than anything else, when it was explained to him they were carting him off to his childhood home. It’s confounding what to make of his seeming non-reaction...but perhaps he presumes this is merely an odd dream. It would be very nice indeed, if that part of it all were simply an odd dream.

Sora’s trying his best not to think about it too hard, to be quite honest.

“You still awake?”

With a start, Sora drags his gaze away from where it was lingering on the trapdoor down to the passenger compartment. “Mhmm. You need me to take the wheel?”

Riku makes a dismissive sound, the good humor evident in his voice. “In your dreams. You’re not the only one who knows how to fly these things y’know.”

He smiles, even if Riku isn’t looking at him. “I know. I still don’t know where you learned though.”

“It’s...a long story.” His friend fiddles with the controls a moment, before turning to look over his shoulder at Sora. “How are you doing, by the way? Still feel...all there?”

Sora manages to hide a wince at the obvious nature of the question. “I’m...fine.” The overwhelming tiredness from before lingers still, but not enough to cause him to fall asleep again. There is an accompanying feeling of jitteriness to keep it at bay, a consuming awareness of their passenger, their destination...and what awaits there. 

_ Kairi… _

_ I have apologies to make. I want to see her again, so much. _

An unreadable look crosses Riku’s face. “Are you...nervous?”

Ducking his head slightly, Sora hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels. “A little, yeah.”

There’s no shame in admitting that to  _ Riku,  _ of all people. Riku would know best what he’s feeling right now, the odd and gentle terror of waiting to be reunited with someone you were torn away from.

“She won’t be mad.” Riku immediately makes a disgruntled noise at his own comment. “She’ll definitely be mad, but she’ll be  _ more _ happy to have you back.” 

“I just don’t want to upset her.” For a moment, the thought of hiding crosses Sora’s mind, but it’s banished within an instant. For all that it would delay the issue, the desire to see Kairi, to know that she’s flesh and blood and real and  _ alive _ far outweighs whatever fear is clouding his heart. 

With a sigh, Riku’s gaze on him softens. “She misses you, Sora. More than anything.” Turning away, his hands go back to clicking over the controls. 

“...I know.” The lump in his throat yet remains. “I just...I’m tired of seeing her sad.”

The furrow of Riku’s brow is almost audible. “Why would she be sad to see you?”

“I left her behind again.” It’s hard to speak around the pressure at the back of his throat. “Just when we’d finally said we’d be together...I-”

“Sora.” Riku doesn’t look at him, but his voice is clear as it cuts him off. “She won’t blame you.”

“She might.” Instinctively, he gnaws on his lower lip, worrying the skin until it cracks beneath the pressure. “She’ll be upset that it happened at all.”

With a huff, and a few meaningful clicks to the navigation system, Riku stands from the pilot’s seat and turns towards Sora with his hands on his hips. “There was nothing any of us could’ve done. We all did the best we could, okay? And if Kairi is still upset…”

A comforting hand lands on Sora’s shoulder, and he forces his chin up in response. “Then I’ll talk to her, and we’ll figure things out.” 

Riku’s eyes glow with something fey and aquamarine, and Sora finds himself nodding on instinct. 

“...alright.”

They have all the time in the world now, after all. They still have so many conversations to have that adding this one specifically to the list suddenly seems like much less of a big deal. 

It seems like a big deal again, once the Gummiship has been safely parked on the back side of the play island and Sora’s feet are back on warm sand. The wind whistles hollowly around his ears in a whispery fanfare.

The sound of Aqua’s footsteps is a firm cadence, as she strides towards the opposite shore of the island with the still-slumbering-Xehanort hoisted easily over her shoulder. Riku’s still puttering around in the ship, turning off various systems and powering down the engine for the night. 

It leaves Sora to stand nervelessly on the sand, staring into space as his mind and heart try to keep pace with each other.

_ I’m home. I made it back, once and for all. _

_ Kairi...where are you? I want to see you. I want to feel your hand between mine and hear that you’re alright. That’s all I want, before I can be perfectly content. _

_ Then why...why do I feel so- _

Riku exits the Gummiship behind him, and the snap of the hull closing startles him out of the pseudo-reverie. “Sora?”

Forcibly, he shakes the mood off, and plasters on a familiar smile. “Race you there?”

Something in Riku’s shoulders shifts, at the sight of that expression. A relaxing of a certain tension, or perhaps it’s merely the ease of exhaustion. “You think you could win on legs of that length, half-pint?”

“Hey!!” There’s nothing forced or unnatural about the red flush that covers his face at that remark, and Riku’s laughter is bright and easy. 

For a single moment-

-nothing has changed- 

The moment passes in an instant. 

There is silence, as they trek down the oft-forgotten path that leads round to the anterior side of the isle. That side is covered in sheer cliff faces and craggy rocks, nothing for children to be playing around. As such, it goes empty day by day, and makes it an ideal spot to put a large candy colored spacecraft that you don’t particularly want anyone to know about. 

They round the curve of the path, and the surroundings begin to look more and more recognisable, even in the shadows of night that surround them. With each step, it becomes easier to breathe as Sora takes in the sight of familiar rocks and trees as though they are long-lost friends. 

Riku, who has been a few steps ahead, suddenly grinds to halt. Sora very nearly runs straight into his back, but through the elegant process of tripping over his feet to the side, manages to avoid it. 

“What is it?” Peering around Riku’s shoulder, the night appears exactly as before. No new disturbances, as they are completely alone here at this time of night. 

The lights from the main island twinkle from across the water. Sora’s breath catches in his throat. 

He’s  _ home. _

“Sora.” Something has changed about Riku’s voice, along with the way he holds himself. “There’s something I…” He trails off, a slightly vacant expression on his face. “There’s something you should know before we...cross the water.”

“Oh?” He almost lets a joke spill off his tongue, but something about the way Riku’s face is set, like he’s preparing to be attacked, compels him to bite it back.

“I know...when we came home last time, it was put off amid the chaos.” Slowly, Riku shifts in place, turning around to face him. “We said we’d get round to it after the test, and we all know how that went.”

Sora grimaces at the reminder, but nods along anyway. It certainly hadn’t been on any of their minds, that when Sora and Riku had gone on for an exam that the situation would devolve into the mess it had been by the end. 

“It’s about your parents.” And the instant the words are out, Riku looks like he wants to bite them back, expression pinched and uneasy. 

“What...about them?” 

It had seemed...easier, when Sora and Riku had alighted from the dark beach to the familiar one, simply to not tell anyone they had been back at all. Easier just to explain later, once everything else had been sorted out. Kairi had agreed to keep quiet, with the promise that with their eventual return, everything would  _ finally _ go back to normal.

He hasn’t been back to the main island in...over a year. 

“They…” And suddenly, the wan look on Riku’s face makes something in Sora’s stomach churn. “Back when the islands fell…”

_ A cool hand touches his brow, soothing the fire of a childhood fever. A voice, calm and deep, is there to read him stories until he drops off to sleep.  _

“They were among those who never returned.”

The moments after that are...somewhat blurry. 

Riku’s entire body is tense, as if he’s expecting to be attacked, but isn’t planning to fight back. The truth is written over his face, and this is as much an admission of guilt as it is a wishing of condolences. 

_ He thinks it’s his fault. He thinks it’s his fault, because he opened the door, and the darkness came in, and the people disappeared and the world disappeared and- _

_ It was Xehanort’s heartless who did that. Not Riku. I’ve...I know that. I know that now. _

As if desperate to break the silence, Riku’s voice cuts through again and into the morass of Sora’s thoughts. “Many of the townsfolk. I don’t know the exact numbers but...they...I…” His voice warbles slightly, and trails off again.

The world is a little grey around the edges. Sora’s stomach feels as though it tilts slightly to the side.

The returning silence doesn’t last long. “I know it’s my-”

Sora looks up at him, and the mess of his own wordless thoughts and numb feelings coalesces, into whatever expression it is that ends up on his face. “Riku? Stop talking.”

Whatever he sees in Sora’s face makes his eyes widen into pools of sodden aquamarine, and Riku, promptly, stops talking. 

It’s unclear how long they stand there, as the night lengthens and carries on, the glow of the moon rising with the fully darkened sky. At some point they become intertwined, and the fabric of Riku’s shirt is slightly rough against his face. 

If Riku notices or cares about the tears that stain it, he says nothing. His arms around Sora are tight, and they fill up the aching space as well as they can. 

_ Mom...Dad… _

_ I... _

There are no words. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The dawn must surely be approaching by now. 

Slowly, Sora shifts in Riku’s hold, from where they’d at some point settled on the ground at the base of a tree. His eyes feel dried out, an oddly similar sensation to when sea salt dries on the skin. The grief that has settled into his body yet remains, a muddy and vacant feeling like a fog at sea.

Riku responds only by tightening his arms around him reflexively, and it seems they had both fallen into a not-sleep, some kind of daze that kept them rooted in place for hours. The sand beneath them is beginning to grow slightly itchy on the bare skin of Sora’s shins. 

With some feeling of loss, as Riku is very warm and  _ real, _ Sora pulls away and tries to keep his mind as blank as possible as he sits up. There’s a slight crackle of joints in his back, some indication of how long they had been frozen in place, wound up tightly together. 

Wordlessly, Riku rises to his feet, and reaches down to pull Sora up in the same motion. The light of morning is just barely beginning to crest over the horizon line, illuminating the sea into a myriad of sparkles. 

Master Aqua must surely be wondering where they are. 

Inhale...exhale. The rocks in the pit of his chest don’t exactly get any lighter with the motion, but they do get a bit more familiar. Sora gives one last harsh rub of his hands over his eyes to dispel any remaining tear tracks and-

There, down on the beach. 

There is a splashing, and a pattering of footsteps, and the wet noises of something being pushed up and onto the shore. 

_ There. _

There, down on the beach, there is a figure, clad in white and pink pajamas and with a shock of dark red hair, hauling a rowboat beyond the tideline. With one final tug the boat is secured, and she stands properly, looking wildly from left to right. 

That singular voice, calling both his and Riku’s names, is a bittersweet consolation he didn’t know he’d wanted so badly until he heard it. 

Without any thought, without needing to physically decide on the action, Sora is running, Riku hot on his heels. The sound of footfalls in the shifting sand disturbs the birds, and the motion rouses the trees from their slumber. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon...illuminating the meeting of sky, sea, and earth with a golden glow.

There’s certainly no one else to witness it when the three collide. 

“Kairi.” Sora breathes, and the name is made even more sacrosanct by the fact that his arms are tightly around her, and her arms are pressed tightly to his back, and Riku’s arms are wrapped around both of them like he’s never planning to let go and-

“Sora,” she breathes back, and the last piece of him that was missing slots softly back into place.

It’s unclear who starts crying first, but Kairi is there to rub away the errant tears off his face, even as she smiles up at him with glassy eyes herself.

“You’re back.”

“We’re home.” It’s Riku who answers this time, and it’s strange to see his normally composed facade break like this. Sora furrows his brow in wonderment at the sight, at the stray tear that glints on the side of Riku’s cheekbone like a displaced dewdrop. 

“No more tears.” He reaches up to brush away the glittering traces from Riku’s cheek, and turns to do the same for Kairi. It’s a little awkward, as she reaches for him with the same purpose, but before too long the tears have dried and whatever awkwardness has dissolved with tired giggling. 

Kairi has attached herself to his arm with one hand, and kept a firm grasp on Riku’s wrist with the other. “So...who’s going to start?” She glances between the two of them with bright eyes that are still a little shiny.

Riku opens his mouth to respond, but Sora hears his own voice before he really thinks about what would be a good thing to say. “Start what?”

“The explanation.” Kairi pinches the skin of his wrist lightly, and frankly it’s delightful enough to feel her fingers on his hand that he can’t even muster up the energy to act annoyed. “Of how you’re back.”

She looks...tired, all of a sudden, even in the warm glow of the dawning sun. It’s such a terrible thought to think that  _ he _ might’ve put that expression on her face that it doesn’t even bear considering.

Sora looks down to where his shoes are slowly collecting sand the further he squishes them into the softness of the beach. “I...it’s hard to explain. I was in the darkness and then…”

It’s a mad scramble to remember what he’d told about it to Riku, even as he can feel his friend’s eyes on his face. “I was underwater, and suddenly I could see the light above me. I swam upwards...and then I was in the Land of Departure’s backyard.”

_ Ghostly, ethereal voices. Blinding white, and a pressure in his chest that doesn’t make sense. _

_ A promise...that can not be broken. _

Sora swallows hard around the rock in his throat, and buries the things-that-must-stay-secret further into the back corners of his mind. 

The twin stares on him are becoming harder to ignore with each passing second, and so he turns back to meet concerned aquamarine and searching cornflower blue. “...what is it?”

There’s a slight twitch to Kairi’s brow, but it’s gone in the next instant as she smiles. “You never change, Sora.”

He laughs it aside, and hopes that he’s the only one who thinks it sounds a little hollow. “Just wait till I get my growth spurt!”

With every moment that the sun grows bright, the smudge on the horizon that is the main island gets a little clearer. When it catches his gaze, his breath subsequently catches in his throat. 

_ Home, now illuminated by daylight. _

“Come on Sora.” With a start he registers Kairi, leaning down to offer him both a hand up and a small smile. “Let’s go.”

* * *

  
  


The air on the main island is both comforting in it’s innate familiarity, and unsettling in the slight differences it bears in comparison to his memories of it. The dirt path leading up into town is so much more narrow than he could’ve sworn it was, and for some reason the shingles on the roof are a much different shade of terracotta then he would’ve described them.

Master Aqua stands there, arms crossed, an imposing silhouette standing where the swell of the hill dips back down and into the town proper. The simple sight of her makes Sora’s sneakers want to drag against the sand, or perhaps it’s more specifically the dour expression on her features. 

Riku jogs up ahead, and nods in salutation. “Where is…?”

The knot between Aqua’s brows has been there since yesterday, it seems doubtful it will leave anytime soon. “Your house, actually. Your mother looks a lot like you.”

With widened eyes, it takes Riku an extra moment to process this. “You left him at-”

“Where else were you planning to keep him?” Aqua’s sigh seems forcibly restrained. “He should stay where one of you can keep an eye on him at all times. It has it’s own risks, but it’s not like you can leave him in a hole in the jungle. Who knows what he’d get up to out there.”

As before, even as the conversation carries on and Kairi’s voice now chimes in with questions and concerns, a fog spreads itself over the front of Sora’s mind. It’s as if...no. It couldn’t be. 

One way or another, Riku manages to persuade Aqua to return home, even as he herds Sora and Kairi in the direction of his own house. With every pace, with every piece of air that fills itself between them and the topic of that conversation, Sora’s mind clears. 

It’s clear enough that by the time they reach Riku’s house, he has enough presence of mind to remember that Riku gets his stern thoughtfulness on his mother’s side, and it could very well be that he’s about to be in for an earful that would put one of Yen Sid’s to shame. 

Riku stands on the doorstep, still as a statue. Kairi hovers behind them, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as he dithers. 

Has...has Riku not been back to the islands? He must have been. Did he have a fight with-

A sudden shock ricochets through Sora’s temples, a migraine condensed into one horrible moment of aching. With a cry, he curls over clutching his head, the odd sensation now rising again in small bursts as the grey tinge to his vision intensifies in alarming speeds. 

The greyness from before...the fogginess that is impossible to focus through…

Dimly, as if all sensation has been torn away from him, he can feel Kairi and Riku’s hands on his shoulders. Has he fallen to his knees? There is the very faint sound of the front door opening, as they are joined by two more figures amidst the gloom. 

Desperately, Sora tries to rally through the murkiness, and for a moment, everything is clear and the colors of the world around him have settled back into place where they belong but then-

The grey fades sharply to black. 

* * *

  
  


The mountains are covered at mist at this time in the early morning, and the air is cool and heavy around him. The sun has not yet fully risen, but the darkness ebbs with each passing inhale. 

How he knows it, how he understands that the mountains are always covered in mist at this time of the early morning, Sora isn’t quite sure. Blinking slowly, the fog clears from his eyes, and his surroundings blossom into further clarity.

He stands barefoot, overlooking the craggy foothills and plains beneath, all shrouded in a thick veil of blue mist. The path on which he stands must be halfway up the side of the mountain, a rocky footpath which bears signs of past use.

It does not seem strange to be on the mountain. It’s as if the air has slowed around him, and he merely sits outside of time, content to ponder the nothingness that accompanies him. The quiet and stillness is alien, after so many months with no stop during his waking hours. 

How long has it been? Since he sat outside of time like this?

There is a gentle noise behind him, and, reflexive motions slowed as if underwater, Sora glances over his shoulder.

A white goat noses along the path beside him, it’s cloven hooves softly clipping against the dirt and gravel. It seems content merely to wander around alongside him, an odd companion on his mountaintop vigil. 

And so Sora wanders, up and over the little rises and falls and oddities that make up the mountain. The gravel should be harsh against the skin of his feet, but it barely registers as a discomfort. The goat clips merrily alongside him, an earnest and devoted partner on their silent walk. They circle, going one way, or perhaps another, or perhaps no way at all.

Without quite registering how he got there, Sora looks around and finds that the base of the mountain is a lush green place, now that he is under the layer of the fog and able to see the area clearly. The grass springs up to meet his feet, verdant and dewey in the touch of the approaching dawn. 

_ “Have you forgotten what you came here for?” _

The disembodied voice comes from both everywhere and nowhere, and Sora whirls around to try to ascertain its source. The goat is, as might be expected of a goat, unbothered. 

“Where are-”

The dawn approaches in a blinding flash. 

_ “Wake up, Sora. Don’t you need to finish what you started?” _


End file.
